The Bowman and the Stag (UKCan)
by Raven Dunbar
Summary: Set in a Mediaeval Fantasy AU, England is an Outlaw Bowman who defies king Francis and continues to hunt in the Royal Forest. One day he finds a mighty Stag and shoots it, only to find that the Stag is as shapeshifting Druid named Matthew, the guardian of the Forest. They soon must band together to thwart King Francis and his Sheriff, Alfred Jones. MapleTea/UKCan/CanadaXEngland


A/N: Hey Guys! I'm back again with the beginning of another story. I know, it's terrible because I haven't worked on my other stories in a while... but all these new ideas keep popping up in my head and I just have to get 'em out before I lose them. Anyway, this one is a Mediaeval Fantasy AU story about England and Canada. They will be the main pairing in this story. France and America are in it, but they're kind of the bad guys this time around ... however, I think there will be a great evil at work which is controlling them. I was inspired to write this when I came up with the idea to do a Historical England cosplay in which I will cosplay England as an English Bowman. So yeah ... anyway, sorry I haven't written much for my other stories, but I hope you'll enjoy this in the meantime!

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or it's Characters.

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The Bowman and the Stag

By Raven Dunbar

December 19th 2012

A hunter stepped lightly amongst the sun dappled trees. He paused for a moment to get his baring. He'd never strayed into this part of the forest before. There was something eerie about it despite it being earlier in the day. Perhaps it was the simple fact that he never had a chance to stray this far into King Francis's woodland territory. The Sheriff had always managed to show up before he could, and while he'd only been spotted once or twice before, Arthur tried his best to avoid being caught. He was an outlaw in ever sense of the word. He never was fond of the King or his Sheriff and made that very obvious.

He glanced back over his shoulder and listened. Nothing. Deciding to push his luck this time, he moved further into the trees. He had a good feeling about today. It was rumoured that some of the finest game remained cloaked in the deepest parts of the forest. He could feed himself for days if he felled a Royal Stag. He'd even be able to share a good portion of it with his friends that lived in the village just beyond the King's castle. Yes, luck was on his side this day. He could just feel it. He strayed further still but still no sign of a Royal Stag. A fox had darted out in front of him at one point, as it chased a small hare into the bushes, and a few birds had been disturbed by his presence and took to the skies but they were not worth wasting an arrow. Arthur did not give up though. He knew he had to take advantage of his good luck in getting this far, and he knew patience was indeed a virtue. He travelled further still, and the trees seemed to thicken. The air was heavy with humidity and branches were heavy with foliage. A sound caught his attention suddenly. He could hear water running nearby and as he came around a patch of firs, he spotted a small stream. As he watched the water meander by he realized that he was actually rather thirsty. Making sure again that he was safe, he moved from the safety of the trees into the small open space that allowed the stream to pass by. Kneeling down on the bank, he dipped his hands into the water and scooped some out to drink. He then repeated the action but instead splashed the refreshing liquid over his face. Staring at his reflection in the water for a moment, Arthur took in his features. Shaggy, messy blonde hair fell into his green eyes above which set his dark, think eyebrows. He frowned a little remembering a remark about his looks being less than satisfactory when he'd tried courting a young women he was once fond of. He remained lost in a moment of bitter thought when he suddenly heard another sound coming from upstream. One hundred feet or so away he finally saw what he'd come for. A Royal Stag! And what a beauty at that. He was massive with an impressing set of twelve point antlers set upon a handsome brow. Arthur slowly got to his feet so that he would not draw the animal's attention but by the time he was up, it was too late. Something else seemed to have spooked the deer and it was heading across the stream and into the trees on the other side. Arthur looked around quickly but didn't see anything himself, and then decided to pursue the beast. There was no way he was going to let it get away. Not after he'd come this far into these forbidden woods. Making sure his sword, bow, and quiver were securely fastened to him, he went in the direction the Stag had fled, and while he had lost sight of it, he was still able to follow it's tracks. It didn't take very long before he spotted the animal again. It had stopped once more and was browsing on the leaves of some low hanging limb. Obviously whatever had spooked it before was not as much of a threat as Arthur had assumed. Using a rather large balsam tree to hide behind, Arthur silently removed an arrow from his quiver, and notched it into his bow. He stepped out from behind the tree, rose his weapon so that it was eye level and drew back the string. The Stag seemed oblivious to his presence. As he released the arrow, Arthur whispered thanks to the animal for giving it's life to feed himself and his friends. As the arrow whistled through the air, the stag turned it's head towards the sound but it could not react in time. As the arrow thudded into it's side, it reared up with fear and pain in it's eyes. Arthur cursed that his aim had not been good enough to kill the animal in a single shot. Usually his aim was lethal the first time around. As he notched another arrow into his bow, he looked up and saw the stag lurching into the bushes and suddenly it disappeared. Cursing again, Arthur ran after it once more. Perhaps his luck was not as good as he thought it would be after all. Charging into the bushes, he looked for signs of blood but before he could even begin to follow them, he found himself tripping over a body that was laying on the ground. Scrambling to get back on his feet, Arthur turned to see if it was the Stag, but instead, what he saw surprised and disturbed him. Everything fell into a dead silence as Arthur stared at the blood-soaked image of a young man laying on the ground with an arrow protruding from his left side. He was starring at Arthur with wide, pain-filled violet eyes, and his breathing was rather laboured. The bowman nearly choked when he realized that he'd in fact shot another man, not a stag. But he was confused, because he knew it was a stag he shot. He saw the animal with his own eyes, and yet, here, laying in front of him was a wild looking young man with the exact same wound and exact same arrow Arthur had supplied.

"B-Bloody hell! Are you okay, lad?! No, of course, you're not! You're bleeding. I'm so sorry … I thought you were a … well, I don't even know what I thought! Let me help you!" Arthur said frantically as he crawled toward the young man and tried to rip a piece of his tunic off to use as a bandage. But something strange happened once again; Although the young man said nothing, he held a hand out to stop Arthur from moving closer, and then place his free hand on the arrow. He winced and the pain on his face was entirely noticeable as he pulled the arrow from his side. Arthur watched in horrified awe. The young man then tossed the arrow back towards the bowman and then placed his hand over his wound and began to whisper a chant in a very old language. Arthur looked around as there seemed to be a strange greenish glow surrounding them and then focusing on the wound. Within a minute, the blood had disappeared and the wound had closed up. Arthur stared speechlessly at the young man. He couldn't believe his eyes.

The young man then moved to sit upright, but winced again as he did so. Although the wound was clean now, and closed up, the pain was still there. Arthur couldn't help but flinch as well as he saw that. He had almost found his voice again and was about to apologize once more when the young man suddenly spoke.

"What are you doing here, hunter?" he asked in a soft, surprising gentle tone.

Arthur blinked and starred for a moment longer before speaking. He couldn't help but notice that under dirt smeared skin and clothes, the young man was rather attractive looking.

"I… well, I was hunting obviously. But you? What are you doing here, and how did I shoot a stag but end up shooting you?!" the bowman demanded.

The young man frowned slightly and looked around thoughtfully.

"This is my home, and you did shoot a stag. It's just that I happened to be that stag."

Arthur blinked again, and shook his head.

"Wait! What?! But this forest belongs to King Francis. There is no way he'd let you live here! But that aside, what do you mean you were that stag?! How is that even possible? Who the bloody hell are you?!"

The young man sighed and reached up to rubbed his forehead.

"I am a druid. I'm the protector of this forest, and I assure you, it does not belong to King Francis! It belongs to the earth herself. No others. And since you dare to set foot here and harm the creatures, I'm afraid I cannot let you go unpunished!" As he spoke, the druid began to get to his feet, and soon he was looming over Arthur who remained seated on the ground. The bowman was still in awe of this strange man. Even though he was soft spoken, there was a certain power that flowed from him that made Arthur uncomfortable, but he remained defiant.

"I don't bloody well care who this forest belongs to, to be quite honest with you," he said as he began to raise to his feet as well, " but the only reason I've come here is because my friends in the village are starving and poor, and they are suffering because of the King's laws, tariffs, and taxes. As a result I refuse to stand idly by and watch them parish before my eyes. So yeah, I cam into your damn bloody forest and I shot you! I was going to take you home to feed the villagers, but I can't rightly do that now, can I? Seeing as you're a man or at least look like one! Aye, I've heard of you druids, but I never thought you were actually real. Just thought you were a bunch of nutters that lived in the forest. Seems I was right, for the most part!"

Arthur was on his feet now, and looked indignant, especially since the druid seemed to have stopped listening to him. He seemed to be focused on something else. Without speaking a word, he moved back through the thick trees towards the stream. Curious as to what he was doing, Arthur followed him. As they passed the spot where Arthur had initially shot him, the druid lead the way some bushes back where the stream was. He silenced the hunter for a moment as he eyed 3 men on horses just on the other side of the stream.

He looked at Arthur, and pointed at the men, whispering. "Who are they? You're friends from the Village?"  
Arthur glanced out across the stream, and scowled as he shook his head. "I wouldn't call those blokes my friends if they were the last men on earth. That is Sheriff Alfred Jones. He's the King's right -hand man. He's a nosy bastard and nuisance. Those two with him are just some of the King's guards."  
The druid looked thoughtful again, and then nodded.

"I see. So they aid the King who makes your lives difficult, and forces you to disturb the forest."

"Well, technically we're not allowed to hunt in the forest, but there is no where else to get food! The people are starving!"

The druid nodded once more.

"Very well … let me make a deal with you then. It seems to me that these men are probably looking for you if you're not supposed to actually be here. If you promise me that you will never come this deep into the forest to hunt again, I will let you go unpunished, and I will help you get by these men. I can see that you care very much for your people, but I care for mine as well. Do you Understand?"

Arthur stared at the young man for a moment. Despite his youthful looks, he seemed quite wise. Arthur nodded.

"Yes. Fair enough. But how exactly are you going to help me get past them? Despite your fancy magic, you've still been injured, and you don't look like you're much of a fighter."

The druid turned to Arthur, and smiled then. It was a kind but mischievous smile, and for a brief second it held the Hunter enraptured.

"One must never judge a book by it's cover."

Suddenly another strange glow seemed to surround them and before Arthur could blink an eye standing beside him where the druid had been was now a huge brown bear. He nearly panicked and fell backward landing on his back. The bear looked at him and seemed to be smiling still, and he could hear the druid's voice in his head.

"Tell me hunter, what is your name?"

"I-it's Arthur … Arthur Kirkland."

The bear nodded it's great head.

"Very well, Arthur. I am called Matthew Williams. I know it's not a very exciting name, but that is what my mother called me. She suffered much the same way as you and your people are, and that is how I came to live in the forest and develope these powers. I have a feeling we will meet again, but I only hope it's not because you shot me with an arrow. I will distract the Sheriff and his men while you make you escape. Move swiftly!"  
Arthur just nodded and watched as the druid, Matthew, charged out of the bushes at the Sheriff and the two guards, growling and snarling. They chased him off into the forest on the opposite side of the river, and Arthur made his escape. Something told him that maybe it was his lucky day after all, and somewhere deep inside he knew that Matthew's words rung true. He knew that they would meet again.

to be continued...

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A/N: Hope you guys liked it! What do you think? Is it worth continuing or not? Let me know! ^_^


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